Locked Away
by thedevilscherub
Summary: The Order hides Harry away while they try to figure out the best course of action. But in keeping Harry in the dark they only cause him to be tormented by his own suspicions, annoyance, and worst of all boredom. full summary inside eventual DRACOHARRY
1. Chapter 1

Full Summary: The Order hides Harry away while they try to figure out the best course of action. But in keeping Harry in the dark they only cause him to be tormented by his own suspicion, annoyance, and worst of all- boredom. When he breaks out to seek Voldermort out with no one's knowledge- he finds that the months spent in almost complete isolation have had more of an affect than anyone realizes. Harry is captured by Voldermort, but in a very different state of mind from their last visit, and Voldermort takes full advantage of it- but he isn't the only one. Draco/ Harry

A.N- Haven't written in a long time, so feedback and constructive criticism is extremely appreciated. I have looked this over for any errors but I am not perfect so please let me know if I've missed anything horribly big.

Disclaimer- I do not own these characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and I am only using them for some fun.

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Harry sits in a gray room, in a gray house, in drab, gray little neighborhood full of weary people who shuffle out each morning for work and return in the same manner, just looking a bit more haggard. Being the hero used to mean constant paranoia, agitation, preparing and training, but now it's become a game of hide-and-go-seek gone stagnant. It's like he's trapped on a chessboard in checkmate and no one's making the next move.

The order refuses to let him seek Voldermort out, and Voldermort is hiding away thinking Harry is actively seeking him out- due to aurors in disguise that make carefully planned appearances now and then. The world follows along, believing their dashing hero is plotting and planning and chasing and that at _any_ moment he will find Voldermort and vanquish the evil wizard so they can celebrate. Harry can practically see them all eying their champagne eagerly.

Instead, the most action Harry gets is from pacing holes into the carpet. He can't peer our the windows, covered by heavy drapes. He isn't allowed to know what's going on outside- just in case Voldermort finds him and captures him- which ISN'T going to happen because Voldermort is probably living in a FUCKING cave right now- in Harry's opinion anyways.

The Order doesn't even bustle around, they are all back at Grimmauld place. They just come in to check on him now and then, try to cheer him up and tell him they'll figure something out soon. But Harry knows they won't, they _can't_ because the only thing that is going to end this war is HIM and he is stuck sitting on his arse. And that is not going to get anything done any time soon.

He's ranted and raved and paced and scribbled in journals and screamed at the walls but it's all been no use. He raged for the first four months, but by the last two the fire had died...and so had Harry. He lived the life of an old man at only eighteen. His friends were starting careers and families, and he didn't even get to die- his only job in life. No, he got to sit...and sit...in a dull, silent house. He brushes thoughts of his friends away, he can't see them as he used to, now his perception of everyone on the 'outside' as he's come to call it, is tainted with bitterness and jealousy.

He's imagined himself running off and doing things his way. He's imagined them getting all upset and chasing after him in vain as he searches out Voldermort (these scenarios always end in victory, proving him right of course). Even if he died it would be a better existence than this. He's all but given up, or at least that's what it looks like in his own mind. He has a sneaking suspicion the Order plans to keep up the facade so Voldermort stays in hiding. This way there are no attacks, and the people feel safer. But Harry knows it can't last forever. He almost hopes for Voldermort to see through the disguise, then the order would HAVE to let him do something, there would be no point in hiding him away anymore.

He knows that this scenario probably involves innocent people dying, and for that he feels guilty, but he can't help but wish the Order would admit that they are wrong. This stupid plan of theirs is hardly practical and is a temporary solution at best, never mind that it horribly underestimates Voldermort. The fact that Harry believes him to be hiding in a bloody cave does as well, but Harry ignores that- he's got to amuse himself with SOMETHING. And the idea of an evil wizard reduced to hiding in a cave is the best Harry is going to get around here.

Harry eyes the clock. Four-oh-nine. Not yet time to start making dinner. He sighs. Meal times are the only highlight of his day. 'What a sad existence' he thinks to himself. He pondered getting a pet but had no way of getting out of the heavily warded house- wards that everyone claimed where to keep others from getting in, and yet just as sufficiently kept him _in._ He was too embarrassed to ask any of the Order members, afraid they'd think he was going insane from the confinement, which he was, but really no one likes to admit to insanity. It's hardly flattering. Though if it got him into St. Mungos, the change of scenery would be nice...

Harry glanced around the room, still half lost in thoughts about his predicament. He dwelled on it a lot, going over the same problems again and again, until his mind was filled with why everything was so horribly _wrong_. All day he reminded himself how utterly stupid this was, and how separated he had become from the world and how this would only end in something, something completely and throughly horrible. Horrible in the worst kind of sense, a catastrophe of destruction. While the Order members were giving a sigh of relief at not having to duel and defend and spy, all harry could see were the battles he had convinced himself were inevitable.

He refused to give up his position of tragic hero- he WOULD kill Voldermort or die trying. Since he was eleven the idea had been lodged in his brain, and now he found himself adamantly against any other outcome. Peace? Peace was for the people who survived. Besides, this was a false mockery of peace, this was a prolonged eye of the storm. This was a building of pressure, and he was sure something was going to explode, and when it did something would splatter.

Harry quickly retraced his last few seconds worth of thoughts. They had been turning increasingly violent. The splattering in particular had brought a visual plentiful with blood and gore- blood and gore that he had often imagined in order to steel himself for when he was faced with the real thing. And he WOULD be faced with it. For some reason he almost wanted to be- it was his destiny, it was also his worst fear... but lately- it had become his only hope. That was all his life consisted of. Why were they taking it away from him? It was as if they had gotten him all worked up and then had said 'nevermind we decided we want to try this another way, have a nice day'.

Harry checked the clock again, surprised at how time passed while he stewed in his own on his own thoughts. five-oh-three. Wonderful now he got to start dinner. Finally, something to do! Harry jumped off the couch and headed to the kitchen. When he realized how much the prospect of just making dinner had cheered him his stomach sank. Something here was very, very wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

A.N- Ok I'm going into this second chapter blind as to if people like this or not but uhm OKAY! wheee. It's a bit short and possibly pointless. I'm building up to something though, I promise.

Disclaimer- Don't own the characters at all. Property of JK Rowling.

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Hermoine comes in chattering. She's talking as soon as her feet cross the threshold that separates "outthere" from "inhere." Suddenly, Harry realizes he's become completely cut off from all the people he used to consider family. It doesn't matter what she's saying, he's not a part of it and therefore he doesn't listen. Part of him feels bad- it's quite a self centered approach but at the same time there's that little whining voice in the back of him mind that keeps screaming 'it's not fair, IT'S NOT FAIR!' in response to anything that reminds him that she can just walk right back out the door and into the real world.

He catches enough words to know she's talking about her work, and how stressful it all is. She's a researcher somewhere...for something...he once knew exactly what but now he doesn't. That's odd, that he'd forget something so important to her. Maybe he's blocked it out on purpose, maybe out of spite he supposes. Not that she even realizes just how out of touch with her he is. So it really doesn't matter, does it? Of course she thinks he's all up to date since her life is almost ALL she talks about when she's here. To be fair, it's her way of trying to keep Harry included in her life; unfortunately, he doesn't quite see it that way.

It's not as if he has much to say himself, and he wonders if he would really prefer sitting in an awkward silence. 'Probably' the little voice in the back of his head taunts him. He's suddenly unexpectedly hit with a feeling of guilt for slightly- ok...morethanslightly having disliked hermione since she walked in the door- ok...longer than that, more like sinceshehadalifenadhedidn't. So, Harry looks at the clock (five- oh-seven) and, cutting her off in an extremely abrupt manner, asks if she would like to stay for dinner. Either he's REALLY feeling guilty, or he a masochist. Maybe he has lost his mind. Or maybe he's just desperate for company. (Despite the fact he's been hating her since she walked in the door). Really, Harry decides he doesn't have a freakin clue what the hell compelled him to ask.

Thus, Harry realizes very quickly that he has no idea what the hell he's doing but Hermione is looking delighted and nodding yes, she'd love too, especially since this is the night Ron works late at the office, and it was so thoughtful of Harry to think of her and wont it be nice having some company, it must be so lonely dining alone every night. Harry disagrees, dining alone is _quiet, _nice and **quiet. **

**"**So what were you planning on making?" Hermione asks as they walk into the kitchen.

Blank stare. Harry shrugs and begins opening drawers and cupboards. After a minute of rummaging he pulls out a box.

"Pasta?"

Hermiones smiles "Okay"

Harry pulls out a pan. Now Hermione is quiet. Guess she ran out things to say about her life, Harry thinks bitterly. She sits at the table and plays with her sleeve. She asks where the dishes are and sets the table. She tries to pretend it's a comfortable silence. Harry is unhelpful, making no conversation- after all, what is there to say? He can't even comment on the weather since he doesn't go outside. The silence stretches. Harry stirs the pasta. Harry almost burns himself when a shrill ring errupts from Hermione's purse. She quickly fumbles and pulls out a cell phone that Harry didn't know she had. He would ask about the muggle object but he's sure he's supposed to know about it and just was bitterly tuning her out when she had mentioned it. He notices Hermione's tone has become more alarmed and wishes he had been paying more attention to her conversation.

"What?! Fine, I'll be there as soon as possible!" Hermione says and hangs up.

"I'm so sorry, there's an emergency! Oh harry, I'm so sorry, but I've got to run, I'll be back sometime this week though and we'll do dinner! Promise!" she hastily explains, and rushes off. Harry peers into the pot and realizes his pasta is now over-cooked and soggy. But at least he has his oh-so-precious quiet. He drains the pasta and muses to himself that for once Hermione didn't explain what was going on. At all. Not that he cares.

He sits down to his meager dinner without making any sauce or bread to go with the pasta and thinks to himself that really, this is no life for a hero.


	3. Chapter 3

A.N It picks up in this chapter- WE HAVE PLOT! Also thanks to my reviewer I-shave-clowns- you very much motiavted me on this chapter!

disclaimer- I dont own these characters

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Hermione's gone and it's raining. It's eight-fifty-seven, it's dark, it's thundering and lightening and Harry is staring at the window. Not out the window, just at the window, he's not really even seeing the window. He feels very carefully with his magic, not his hands but invisible tendrils of power, reaching out to the pulsing vibes that saturate _everything_, keeping him in. The wards. He doesn't know exactly what he's doing. He does know however, that he's tired of amusing himself with his ever growing dark sense of humor and his resentment of everyone in the whole wide world. He is tired of daydreaming about breaking out. He is tired of having to break out. He is GOING to break out. His eyes are not vibrant, holding only a blank stare as he concentrates on his magic. He doesn't know what he's doing or why, but he just happened to suddenly be tired of his own damn thoughts. This time though, he's doing something about it.

Harry realizes there is no way of knowing what is going on outside, what Voldermort is doing, or what kind of wards Dumbledore has put up. No one has told him, as if maybe they were suspicious all along that he would try and get out. As if they never _really_ trusted him. Well, he is a Gryffindor after all, a brash, thoughtless, headstrong Gryffindor, he thinks with a smirk. But they forgot, he's also _Harry Potter _and not getting killed by the Dark Lord's curse was not solely due to his mother's love or pure luck, as he had told himself for so many years. No, Harry Potter was a special wizard, and he knew it. Unfortunately no one else realized he did and he kept the information held close, hidden under a shell of false modesty and feigned naeivity.

Harry had changed more than anyone had realized. Months ago he would have exploded with his magic, determined to get out by brute force, only causing the Order to come running, alarmed and in force. Now he was smart enough to realize they kept a watch on him, spells layered upon spells to detect the slightest change in the wards. But Harry was sneeking in between layers, and weaving his own magic in with the spells, so it went undetected. It was as if he was guided by some sort of instinct, some force that was helping him. The force told him _leave and never look back, there are better things for you._ Harry smiled to himself, of course there were, anything was better than this.

He stood in the dark room for hours, no expression on his face as his magic worked unseen. The rain continued and the clocks kept their eternal count. At ten-thirty-six the door's lock slid back and it creaked open. Without taking anything with him or having the slightest idea where he was going, Harry walked silently out into the rain. He felt slightly posessed, but shrugged it off as an affect of the many months alone. Anyone would be slightly off and he didn't question it. He took even, measured steps down the street, reveling in the feel of the rain.

Harry smiled, feeling very powerful indeed. He had escaped! As he walked, a feeling of anger slowly rose up inside of him. Why should he have HAD to escape? Why didn't the Order realize their horrible mistake? Why was everyone so BLIND to him and the suffering of months of being left in the dark? In the beginning he waited anxiously to hear of the plan's failure, or reports of massacre, he was constantly on edge. He got little sleep. The constant worrying, the constant paranoia, and no one noticed, or even tried to reassure him.

Harry wondering where his feet were taking him and how he was going to find Voldermort, and what exactly was going to happen when he did. But these concerns did not seem as pressing as they would have weeks ago. Or so Harry told himself.

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Miles away in a large mansion hidden by spells even more complexly woven than those that had kept Harry trapped inside the dreary little house, a small jewel began flashing. It lay on a small table beside a plush, antique chair. It was unremarkable, red in color, shiny as jewels tend to be, but its flashing brought great delight to the one who had been patiently waiting for exactly that.

"Drawn like a moth to a flame" the figure murmured to himself. "I knew you would come" he whispered, allowing a small amount of glee to show in his usually terrifying voice.

A knock at the door caused the figure to look up, quickly pocketing the jewel. "Come in" he said quietly. A tall figure with pale hair, neatly drawn into an elegant clasp at the nape of his neck entered.

"My Lord" he said as he knelt.

"Ah, Luciusss" the man seated in the chair greeted him. "I believe I have some good newss" he said.

"Yes, My lord?" The elder Malfoy said, still kneeling.

"You may rise" the dark lord said before continuing, "The spell on Harry Potter has been activated, it seems he has stepped outside the protective spells that kept it inactive. He will find himself here soon enough. It seems those fools failed to identify the spell or find a way to remove it, as well as keep the Potter boy safely hidden away where he could not escape" the snake like man said smugly.

"So, how soon will he arrive?" Lucius asked.

"In a few hours time and we must be sure to use the anger that has no doubt built up towards the Order to our advantage. No doubt they have kept him in the dark or fed him some ridiculous story as to why he was locked up, and this will give us a chance to...manipulate his allegiances, if we do it right" Voldermort said. Lucius was skeptical, but kept his mouth shut.

"I want him to be met by young Draco, someone not as... threatening, perhaps he can... begin to plant the seeds of doubt against the Order" Voldemort continued.

"And you think potter will listen?" Lucius said, immediately hoping he hadn't over stepped his bounds.

"_If _your son can do this right. Instead of trying to win him over, first subltey pit him against the Order, this will get him thinking and questioing, once we have got him unsure of himself it is a process that can be done gradually. What your son has to do is work with the mess the Order has already started" Voldermort commanded in tone that held a threat Lucius did not want to come face to face with.

Voldemort was a master at mind games. He knew they worked best when ones foundation had been weakened, and six months of near isolation had shaken Harry's foundation, very, very much.

"Yes, my lord, I shall inform him of this task at once" Lucius said, quickly bowing and leaving the room, his thoughts in a turmoil. The dark lord expected Harry to...join them? It was perposterous, the boy was 100 light, a lap dog to Dumbledore, and hated every single Death eater with a passion. Unless Dumbledore had chained him up and starved him, he doubted Potter's allegiances would be so easily swayed. His son had his work cut out for him.

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"I have to WHAT?" the younger Malfoy exploded. Did his father realize that he and Potter had been rivals for seven years? leaving school had not changed anything! And now he was supposed to...persuade Potter to hate Dumbledore? He sighed. His father gave him a stern look.

"You heard me, and you **will** figure something out. And fast, you should be down in the foyer in no more than 30 minutes" his father replied before abruptly leaving the room.

Draco paced. If he failed it was sure death, but he didn't have time to bemoan the fact. He had a half hour to come up with a plan. In a half hour he would be standing in front of a most likely confused and angry potter, by then the spell that led him to the large, hidden manor would be wearing off and he would not be so subdued. He could see it now, the spell's effects leaving Potter, the confusion and passiveness falling away as the other boy demanded answers, to know where he was, as he pulled out his wand. Draco had observed Potter closely and was under no false impressions despite the boy's modesty. An angry Potter was to be dealt with craefully, very carefully, especially if one wanted to get on his good side. Even mroe so when one was his most hated school rival. This would not be a fun showdown. Oh, did Draco have his work cut out for him. He wondered why he hadn't been given more notice. The Dark Lord wasn't one to procrastinate. Well, it was something to ponder over another time, right now he had to think...and do it quickly.


	4. Chapter 4

A.N- thank you to those who have reviewed. Uhm I'm a bit worried about characters being too OOC in this chapter though I tried to explain their actions as well as possible even if they were acting slightly OOC. Please give me some feedback as to if I succeeded in keeping it realistic. BTW if anyone is interested in BETA-ing this for me please let me know.

Disclaimer- down own any of these characters. NONE.

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Thirty minutes later Draco is peering out into the raging storm and inwardly panicking. He has no plan of course, how could one come up with a plan for something like this? For the first time in his life (all eighteen years of it), he is walking into a situation having absolutely no idea what he's doing. He doesn't understand how Gryffindors apparently do everything this way- it's reduced him (internally) to a mess. If his father knew, he would have a fit- Malfoys do not fail, and people without plans do! Therefore, Draco is doomed to failure and imminent death and naturally it is all Potter's fault. Luckily for him, at the very least he appears cool and calm, looking through the glass of the grand entrance way doors every few seconds for any sign of the spell befuddled boy in the darkness.

Meanwhile Harry blearily realizes something is not right, as his feet are clearly guiding him somewhere and he has no inclination to stop them. It isn't like the Imperius curse though, because he can throw that off, and besides, no one was around to cast it on him. However, at least he's headed somewhere, and well, if Voldermort is leading him there, then at least he wont have to do all that searching himself. He knows deep inside that he should be more wary and absolutelyfucking scared, but Merlin, it's nice to be outside...even if it is pouring rain. He's now soaked and shivering, but he sees magnificent gates and beyond that an enormous manner up ahead suddenly.

'Well, so much for Voldermort living in a cave' he thinks, somehow instinctively knowing that's where he's ended up. After all, he _is_ Harry potter, and even if everyone else has forgotten, _this_ is his destiny. So it confuses him that when he gets up to the doors, he isn't quite sure what to do. No doubt Voldermort arranged all this because he felt the powerful magic allowing him to cross the wards. He stares up at the doors, soaked to the bone and suddenly realizes Voldermort very clearly has the upper hand, as he has been preparing for six months and Harry has been sitting on his arse. Suddenly, he'd rather just turn around and go right back to the dreary little house, because those Visions of Victory are seeming rather foolish right now.

Unfortunately the door is thrown open by a vexed Draco Malfoy.

"Bloody Hell, if my job wasn't already hard enough you choose to stand there and STARE at the door for ten bloody minutes" He growls before pulling the other boy inside. Draco, while watching the Boy Wonder stare blankly in thought, resigned himself to his death and decided he would rather at least get to take his frustrations out on Potter before he died than watch him do an imitation of a retarded statue.

With a wave of his wand, Harry is dry and the puddles below him are gone and the two boys are left in standing in silence in Voldermort's grand entranceway at exactly twelve-forty-one in the morning.

Harry shakes off the confusion that had been clouding his brain only to have it be assaulted by the questions that he should have been asking himself the whole way there and then some.

'What they hell is going on?'

'What the hell are you going to do now?'

'How the hell are you not already A-K-ed eighteen times over?'

'Where is Voldermort?

'Where are YOU?'

He stopped the stream of thoughts when he realized he was giving himself a headache and decided to try and put together what he did know. He realized he had been led here, and had been expected. Obviously he wasn't in immediate danger, judging from the way Malfoy was inspecting his nails waiting for some reaction from Harry. But beyond that he couldn't fathom what the Dark Lord was thinking- or how long he could count on being safe inside the snakes very own lair. He rather very badly wanted answers. He rather doubted they would be coming from Malfoy.

"So, Malfoy... do you normally hover at the front door at nearly one in the morning?" he asked, the ridiculousness of the situation not lost on him. Here he was, in his worst enemy's entrance way, with his old school rival, acting like it was no big deal. He sincerely hoped he could blame it on the lingering effects of the spell.

"Of course not, obviously, we've been expecting you"

"We?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "You _know_ where you are Potter." as much as he would like to think Potter was as dull as a plank of wood, Malfoy knew he wasn't.

"_But _I don't know _why_" The other said, crossing his arms.

"Well that would just make things too easy wouldn't it?" Draco smirked. Harry pulled out his wand. His unease was finally catching up to him and he really wished he knew what was going on. The tiny voice in the back of his brain chimed in 'Dumbledore had been keeping something from you agaaaain' in an annoying sing song voice.

"I really don't feel like playing games" Harry ground out in annoyance. Was it some kind of joke sending Draco to taunt him, as if he weren't even considered a threat?

Draco sighed, decidedly not pulling out his own wand. Harry was supposed to be won over, not knocked unconscious, he reminded himself. Unfortunately, Draco wasn't really making much progress. Meanwhile Harry decided this whole thing was extremely anticlimatic. Where was the big battle scene, where were the Death Eaters and Voldermort? why were things suddenly moving so very slowly when they should be speeding up?

"What's going on malfoy, and if you don't give me a straight answer I'll blow your blood head off" harry said, feeling only slightly overdramatic. Okay, maybe slightly more than slightly, but that was only because blood Malfoy was looking so very _bored._

Malfoy sighed. "Obviously, Voldermort doesn't want you dead so very...right away." he began, but Harry impatiently cut him off "Obviously since I'm still breathing"

"Ahem- would you let me finish?" Draco snapped. Harry sighed and recrossed his arms.

"Maybe things aren't really what they seem, you should really start to think about who's really been causing your near death all these years, sure Voldermort has been trying to kill you, but who's been letting him? Do you really think Dumbledore couldn't have done more? And even if he couldn't have, was his hiding such important information really justified?" Malfoy asked, having no idea where the hell he was going with it, and surprising himself with his blunt nature. Very un-Malfoy-like.

"Even if Dumbledore is manipulative and not as trustworthy as I thought that DOESN'T explain why Voldermort hasn't swopped down and killed me yet" Harry said pointedly.

"Hmm, good point" Draco said. How would he answer that without outright propositioning Harry to join the dark side? Because really the reason Harry was still alive was because for some reason Voldermort thought he could be of use...willingly. So Draco did the first thing that came to mind.

"As him yourself" he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh and would you mind directing me to him at-" Harry checked his watch "one-oh-three in the morning?"

Draco scowled. "As if I know where he is. You'll be safe until later, obviously the Dark Lord plans to meet with you himself. Until then, he has prepared a room" He said turning on his heel and leading the way not caring if Potter followed. the whole ordeal had been a mess, and he wanted it off his hands. He heard Harry's footsteps and thanked God the boy was probably just as tired and annoyed as he was. He led him to a lavishly decorated room and prepared to leave without a word. harry's voice stopped him.

"And I'm just supposed to stay here until the dark lord appears for tea?"

Draco whirled around "Blood hell if I know OR care- I was just supposed to play butler and nothing more" he snapped. It was a bit beyond just a small lie, he was supposed to start getting Harry to consider joining their side, and he had failed miserably, he chose not to mention either fact. Harry laughed. Draco stormed away to meet his doom.

Harry sat on the bed after Malfoy faded from sight. It was soft. Not that he would sleep tonight. He was already stupid for being here. For staying here. For sitting around waiting. Much like he had done for the past six months. Again Harry was forced to turn to his thoughts. And they weren't pretty.

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The elder Malfoy slammed the door forcefully.

"What was that?" he demanded of his heir.

"I dont know" Draco said honestly, continuing his very un-Malfoy-like streak of stupidity. Truly, Lucius did not see how it could have been anything BUT a disaster, but there was no way in hell he was letting his son know that.

I'll tell you what that was, it was FAILURE" he yelled the last word. He didn't bother continuing his tirade. Instead raising his wand...

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In a dark room Voldermort regretted giving the Malfoy boy so little time to plan. Nonetheless, he was being punished. As for the Potter boy, Voldermort would have to tread carefully. No, he would not lose such a powerful ally to the light side. If things were done right...anyone could be..._swayed. _


	5. Chapter 5

A.N- ok, this may sound bad- but I'm really suffering from lack of reviews. I dont know what I'm doing right or wrong and honestly am hoping for some sort of feedback to help me improve. I wish i could say I'm just writing for myself- but I know people are reading and it would be nice to know what you guys are thinking.

Also- this is a pretty short chapter because after this...things get tricky. I know i didn't go into as much detail as I could have but really, harry and Voldermort are both playing this by ear so hopefully the explains why they seem to be jumping into things.

Disclaimer- down own the characters, they are property of J.K Rowling.

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When Voldermort steps into the elegant guest room the next morning, he is met with an alert pair of green eyes. Harry Potter hadn't slept. He sat in a rigid high backed chair, waiting for the arrival of his most hated enemy. He had spent a night going over questions he didn't have answers to. And he had become increasingly frustrated. Luckily for the Dark Lord, Harry Potter realized who he had to thank for his ignorance. If Dumbledore has told him that they had detected some sort of dark spell on him, he would have stayed put. If Dumbledore had let him research it he could have found something. If Dumbledore hadn't kept treating him like a child...well things would have been different.

However, as smart as Harry Potter was, and as powerful- he still had his flaws. And one of them was never learning occulemency. He cursed silently as he felt the Dark Lord immediately pick up on these thoughts as he popped into the room without warning (just as Harry had expected him to). The Dark Lord didn't say anything for a few long minutes. He was very pleased to realize maybe swaying the teen wouldn't be as hard as he thought.

"So, do you really want to go running back to Dumbledore?" He asked, without any preamble. His flair for the dramatic was usually only used in front of his followers to keep them in line. Personally, he could be quite blunt.

"No." Harry replied simply. Then he smirked, knowing Voldermort could easily access his mind and thought, _But that doesn't mean I want to join you and start killing innocent muggleborns._ Voldermort frowned and forced himself not to raise his wand. He knew he could convince the boy, it would just take... a change in tactic. And believe it or not, Voldermort was not above compromise, as long as he came out on top in the end.

He had soon realized the side with Harry Potter on it would be the side that won. So be it if he had to tweak his...ideals a bit, in the end he would have the power. And he really was a Slytherin deep down- power came first. He had no desire to spare the filthy mudbloods from the death they deserved for tainting what he considered _his_ society, but he supposed he could..postpone their deaths. If he had to put off the immediate cleansing of the wizarding world while he got rid of the light side, he would. After all, once he was in charge, Harry Potter could always be taken care of. And then he would simply pick up his plan where he had left off.

Unfortunately, Harry Potter didn't know legilmency either or he would have realized Voldermort was seeing him as a tool. As it was Harry was wary. He didn't trust Voldermort, but now, he didn't trust Dumbledore either. It was just a matter of where he thought he could gain enough leverage to figure things out. He doubted he would get anywhere on the light side, they constantly held him back and kept him in the dark. However, the dark side, well, if he could convince Voldermort he was loyal, he would have a hell of a lot more opportunity to figure things out for himself. Harry was pretty sure he could hold his own in the world of manipulation and deceit. Sure it was a bit over confident, but like I said- Harry Potter had his flaws.

Voldermort and Harry contemplated each other silently. Then Voldermort broke the silence.

"I believe you may come to see my...goals, have changed somewhat. My initial strategy simply was impractical. After all there aren't enough purebloods alone to keep wizarding society running. However, I think that you might agree that precautions do need to be taken to ensure the future of the wizarding world" He said.

"Uh...huh, right, and these precautions, would they involve torturing, killing, maiming, raping..?" Harry replied, utterly unconvinced.

"What I propose, is a simple...reworking of a power hierarchy so that the balance of...pureblood to those less...magically capable is better suited to ensuring the future of our kind" he replied carefully, skirting around the question. This was not lost on Harry.

"Personally, I'm not interested in reworking ANYTHING " Harry snapped. He was not about to make a deal with the devil.

"But there is something you do want, and let's be honest here, I'm the only one who is going to be able to help you get it" Voldermort said, alluding the growing need in Harry to pay Dumbledore back for underestimating him. Harry was silent. Was it worth it to get back at the headmaster? _Who said you have to do this for his reasons? Why not join him to gain power and skill and then use them for your own ends? _The voice in his head asked. It had a good point. Essentially, Harry and Voldermort both wanted to use the other and neither saw each other as trustworthy OR an ally. And both thought they would come out on top.

It was in this frame of mind that they eventually agreed to work together to bring Dumbledore and the Order down.

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	6. Chapter 6

-1A.N- thanks to those who reviewed! I'm back in school so updates wont be as frequent, probably only on weekends now. I'm thinking for the next chapter at least I might just start having some fun with Harry and Draco if no one objects- you'll get an idea of what I mean at the end of this chapter. Enjoy and please review!

Disclaimer- Dont own any of the characters- they belong to J.K Rowling.

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Harry looked at Draco. Draco looked at Harry. Harry smirked, Draco sneered. He did not like being told to be nice to Voldermort's new best friend. Despite the fact that his father's punishment was still quite fresh in his mind, he quite resented being told to give Harry a tour of the grounds. He was not a servant! And being civil to Harry Potter really did go against some fundamental instinct. Therefore, Draco Malfoy was not doing a very good job.

"So Malfoy, shall we?" Harry asked, enjoying his new status. He went from being despised and hated to being above everyone in the damn manor. And he noticed right away. Voldermort had given orders that he was not only to be left alone, but that he was to be treated with the utmost respect as he was now on their side. Though no one openly questioned the Dark Lord it had sent waves of angry whispering and gossip through the ranks, and whenever they thought Harry wasn't looking, the Death Eaters shot death glares at him. And he had only been there a little over a day.

Most of his short time at the Manor was spent meeting with Voldermort. They were planning, though of course Voldermort wasn't letting Harry in on everything. He was just better than Dumbledore at seeming like he did. Harry of course expected this, the only difference was he thought that with time he could truly convince the Dark Lord to divulge more. Unfortunately, Dumbledore would always see him as a child. They had decided not to have Harry go back and play the role of a spy, because it would be far too suspicious and difficult. For his part Harry was glad. However, they didn't want to let the light side know he had switched, because they could use the Order's confusion to their advantage. They figured the Order would stage some sort of rescue mission and decided to lead them on a wild goose chase of sorts. Harry had no pity for the Order at the point, but for his part Voldermort was wise enough not to suggest an attack as Harry still was wary of unnecessary violence.

Luckily for them, the Order was playing right into their hands….

While Malfoy grudgingly showed Harry around the grand Manor the Dark lord was lavishly hiding away in, the Order was meeting with grave faces.

Dumbledore sighed as he took in the worried faces of the Order, especially those who had been close to Harry, including the Weasleys and Lupin.

"I'm afraid Voldermort found some way of breaking into the house we were keeping Harry. We found no trace of a struggle, but it seems the spells were disturbed late at night, most likely when Harry was asleep and caught off guard" he informed the group that was huddled around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place.

"But how? No one could have gotten through those spells without setting off the alarms! It's impossible!" exclaimed McGonagall, who had helped craft the wards and security spells.

"And it was under Fidelus so how did he find it in the first place?!" asked Moody, who did not like how things were looking. Something wasn't quite right here.

Dumbledore fought the urge to sigh again. He couldn't let on how concerned he really was, it would not help the morale of the Order. But it made no sense, even from the inside it was impossible to get out, so that ruled out Harry escaping on his own.

"Well, whatever happened has already happened, now we need to find a way to get Harry back!" insisted Molly who was more concerned for the boys welfare than figuring out what had happened with the spell work.

"Yes, I know we must get young Harry back as soon as possible, and our only link to Voldermort is Professor Snape." he said looking towards the forming man.

"The Dark Lord has not called me since Potter disappeared" Snape admitted, frowning. This was extremely strange as he had thought the Dark Lord would be eager to know what the Order was planning in order to rescue the boy. Something wasn't right, but for the life of him he had no idea what the Dark Lord was up to. His lack of communication did not look good for Snape though.

"Well, maybe you can find an excuse to go to him…" Tonks suggested.

The Potions Master just sneered in response "Do you think we could come up with anything he would not be able to see through? I have no doubt he is going to be on high alert now that he has the upper hand."

The table was silent, most of them imagining Harry chained up in some dungeon being tortured, or possibly already dead. They felt helpless and incompetent. And no one had answers. For the first time in his life, Snape found himself hoping to feel the burn of the mark- he may not have liked Potter, but if they were going to win the war- they needed him alive.

Well those sitting at the table could not have been more wrong about what was being done to Harry who was currently strolling through well kept gardens.

"Hmm who knew the Dark Lord liked flowers?" he commented with a grin, feeling cheeky.

Draco rolled his eyes "he doesn't, but all well kept Manors have extensive gardens, it's cultured" he retorted, biting back the insult that normally would have followed: _not that you'd know_. His own manor had gardens kept up by a dozen professional gardeners and held almost as many rare magical plants as the one they were in now.

Harry sat himself down on a bench to rest and Draco was annoyed, the brat had been taking his time, observing his new surroundings carefully when all Draco wanted was to be done with this stupid humiliating tour. And now he was resting- resting!

"Enjoying the scenery _Harry?" _Draco asked in a mocking tone, forced to use the other's boys first name.

"yes, I am, too bad such a garden is wasted on Death eaters" Harry replied. Draco grated his teeth in annoyance. He may have been told to be polite but no one had told him to take such insults.

"And _what_ is that supposed to mean?" he demanded.

Harry shrugged and gave Draco an innocent look "well I don't see many of them out here enjoying it" he said with a shrug before getting up and meaning down the path.

Draco would have told him it was because they had more important things to be doing, but the other boy was already around the corner. Because of this Draco didn't see the cheerful smile Harry wore, he was going to have some fun with the other boy for all those years and if such a small comment got him so riled, well Harry had a gold mine of opportunities to drive the other boy absolute insane.


End file.
